


Everything

by Teenyttt



Category: No Fandom
Genre: A small poem of angst, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 12:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teenyttt/pseuds/Teenyttt
Summary: Everything is too much.





	Everything

Everything is too bright.  
Too glaring, the headlights in my eyes  
The lights burning my sclera.  
The translucent, opaque, transparent transparent curtains block nothing.  
Rays, the wavelengths, attuned to nothing but my optics.  
The mirror reflects, the glass refracts,  
the course of the star’s missile shoots straight, I in its eye  
God realm,  
blazes down with a weight so oppressive, depressive, that I become  
submissive.

 

Everything is too loud.  
And noisy.  
My ears thrum and threaten to tear apart the drums vibrating and rebounding and going to burst.  
Microphones in lectures to amplify cries and shouts across classrooms become deafening, deafening, deafening, deafening.  
My mother and hers four feet apart, yet the waves of air throttle me, their shouts drown out the sea.  
Beats and shockwaves through the walls, crashing music while I try to go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep.  
Surrounded by noises and infinite voices.  
I’m trapped and deaf and no one is listening. With the way things are, I do not doubt the world has already followed me. 

 

Everything is too dark.  
Shadows of uncertainties and ghosts of our pasts that haunt the darkest corners. Forgotten whispers of dreams and the slaughtered hopes that mist and sink into blackness unknown.  
The monster under my bed and the monster in my closet and me greet each other every night.  
I wonder when the three of it became comrades.  
What is it that dwells in the dark, unseen, waiting to take me whole.  
I taught myself the strength of blankets and fortified my walls early on.  
Now at least when I tremble, there’s till a wall between me and the dead.  
And they told me the Lord was always with me. 

 

Everything it too fast.  
The cars and clouds and cash and cats and cries. Fast regurgitates noise like you wouldn’t believe.  
Have I mentioned everything is too loud. 

 

Everything tastes too sweet, too salty, too bitter.  
My tongue a wet desert that shrivels up and creases with ugly wrinkles.  
A swallow of bile that rises up incessantly with a force I wish my will was as strong as.  
Flies clamber up the craggy mountain, mindful of shovels, stabbing the food, transporting it, downing it, killing it.  
Our bodies built to perfection of God’s image yet I can’t consume the manna it was made for. 

 

I need everything to stop. So that I can  
breathe and  
hear and  
see and  
eat like  
I used to. Because I can’t remember  
when I used to. I can’t remember  
the last moment I could hear clearly, without all the buzzing, all the bees and the insects and the vibrations crawling in my ears and I can never get them out. They live there now. I can’t remember  
the last time I could see there’s a fog over everything and I see but I can’t see but I can I know faces I know names (some of them anyway) but I don’t know who they are and I don’t know what they are and I can’t show them what I am if they don’t show me what they are and what everyone is. 

 

god help me.

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'ed help.
> 
> i live for kudos, comments, bookmarks and constructive feedback, anything you can give really


End file.
